


Three Visions of House Baratheon

by AnnaTaure



Series: The Mummer's Dance [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Prophecy, pre-asoiaf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28219863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure
Summary: Three young stags visit the witch who can tell the future. None of them receives what he had imagined.
Series: The Mummer's Dance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067279
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Three Visions of House Baratheon

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Les Trois Visions de la Maison Baratheon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28030095) by [AnnaTaure](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTaure/pseuds/AnnaTaure). 



Robert had led them there for a laugh, but now that all three of them stood before the fortune teller’s tent, the Baratheon brothers did not quite know what to do; Stannis and Robert, at least, since Renly just quietly followed his elders.

Then Robert straightened his broad shoulders, as if to show that he would not allow himself to be impressed by a toothless crone, and lifted the tent flap. 

“Good day to you, my lady,” he greeted in a loud voice, his brothers coming on his heels. 

The old woman raised a wrinkled face and stared at them with pale eyes. A thin smile stretched her lips. 

“Boys,” she said with a chuckle. “Usually it is maids coming to see me. They all want to know what their lord husband will look like.” 

“But we do wish to know what our life will be,” Robert said, coming closer to the small fire the fortune teller was poking. 

“Sit in front of me, all three of you. Who wants to go first?” 

Of course, Robert held his hand out before his brothers. The old witch picked a long needle in a leather bag by her side and pricked his finger, then harvested the drop of blood that had appeared with the tip of her tongue. She bobbed her head for a while, then talked in a stronger, lower voice. 

“You will be crowned,” the old woman said. 

“See?” Robert bragged. “I will win the melee.” 

“But not during this tourney,” she went on. “You will be surrounded by gold yet fortune will abandon you. And you will die from what you love best. Your marriage will bring you bitterness and no children, though you will scatter many a little raven through the kingdom. None will know you, and dark the heads, dark the fates.” 

Robert’s face began to turn scarlet, and Stannis took Renly by the arm, ready to run if their elder brother made a scene. 

“My marriage to Lyanna will be fruitful,” Robert said curtly. “I am not truly convinced. Your turn, Renly.” 

The child hesitated before reaching towards the old woman, but she pricked his finger so quickly that he did not notice it, and she even kissed his palm afterwards, causing him to giggle. 

“You will have your forefathers’ house,” she said, her eyes half-closed. “You will shine among men and they will look at you as you wish. Everybody will love you but you will never love more than two people. Small folk will say your name with a smile and a blessing, and will cheer for you, yet all you will give them will be hunger and anarchy, shame and mocking for a woman, guilt for another.” 

All of this was not really reassuring, in truth, but curiously Stannis felt inclined to believe that woman’s tales. Most of the fortune tellers would describe a joyful future, full of love and beautiful children, only to satisfy their clients and receive some coins in exchange. 

Renly seemed nonplussed, no doubt not completely understanding what the old woman had just said, but he thanked her nonetheless and dropped a coin on her lap. She picked it promptly and patted the boy’s cheek. 

Then her pale eyes switched to Stannis. 

“Do you want to know your fate as well, little lord? Give your hand.” 

The crone pricked his finger without delay, quite forcefully, but he refused to flinch. And like for his two brothers, she delicately licked the drop of blood that pearled at the tip. 

“The sea will be your life, ice and snakes will both want your death. Fire will try to burn your heart, and snow will warm you as much as the sun. The king will have you marry a woman he despises, and three children she will give you. You will come close to lose them and you will cross fire and blood for them. A fourth she will bring and you will love him as well as the others, though he will not be your blood, nor hers.” 

* * 

“It makes no sense,” Robert groaned after they had left the tent, no more than anything she said. “Aerys despises all sorts of women, and he as already killed many.” 

“Rhaegar then?” Stannis wondered. “Once he becomes king… I did not quite understand when she meant about the children.” 

“Your wife will bring a cuckoo in the nest!” Robert quipped, always the charitable brother. 

“Or she might be a widow with a child, perhaps a newborn,” Stannis sharply countered. 

Then he seemed to deflate a bit. 

“She said I might lost them…” he whispered. 

“Stop taking those tales seriously! If I believed her, I would never get married, at it’s bloody unlikely to happen,” Robert assured before laughing again and hoisting Renly onto his shoulders. 

The boy shrieked with joy when his ‘mount’ launched into a run on the path, Stannis following them at a slower pace. 

* * 

The maegi was standing on the threshold of her tent, watching the three brothers walking back to Harrenhal. She could not help feeling some pity for them. All their dreams would be broken mercilessly just like their parents’ ship against the rocks, and they would suffer, and not all of them would fight to find the dawn. 

“What a shame,” she sighed.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a prologue of some sort for a much longer story that I'm currently writing. I honestly did not think that my drafts would grew so huge...   
> Also, should you spot blattant spelling mistakes, you're more than welcome to point them ;)


End file.
